


All's Well (That Ends Well)

by frankie_mcstein



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, First Date, If Higgins Doesn't Kill Magnum First, Implied Sexual Content, Miggy - Freeform, Snark, The Author Regrets Nothing, these two idiots will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_mcstein/pseuds/frankie_mcstein
Summary: “This sucks.” Well, that wasn’t the profound conversation started he’d been hoping to come out with. His world shook a little as Higgins laughed.“It does indeed.”“I can’t believe I’m going to die at the bottom of a well like some secondary character in a Lassie film.”“You are not going to die at the bottom of a well.”“Will you go to dinner with me if I survive?” Oops. That wasn’t meant to have come out.“Keep talking like that, and you actually will die at the bottom of a well.”Magnum and Higgins follow their case to the bottom of a well, because of course they do. Magnum uses it as an excuse to ask Higgins out, because of course he does. Now they just need someone to rescue them.





	All's Well (That Ends Well)

**Author's Note:**

> This started as Miggy's first date and became an exercise in snark because, well, that's these two to a t. Adult content is implied hence the teen rating, but nothing is seen or said.

There were a few ways that Magnum liked to wake up. Waking up to the smell of fresh roast coffee and cooking bacon was always good. It did make him sound a little like a husband from the 1920s though, so maybe he would prefer waking up to the sun beaming in through his window and telling him it was the perfect weather for a swim. Waking up to the lazy silence of a private estate and the distance rush of the ocean was guaranteed to put him in a good mood. If he was going for something that made him sound less like a 'one percenter,' then he would say waking up to a rainstorm was one of his favorites. Waking up to someone saying "I thought you were dead," was never going to make his top ten, especially when they followed it up with a shake to his shoulder that made his whole body erupt into flames.

"Magnum, please, try to stay awake."

Huh. Whoever this human alarm clock was they sounded scared. Not the regular sort of 'oh dear, that shape looks like it has eight legs and I'm not a fan of arachnids, won't you please grab a glass and take care of it?' It sounded more like the sort of fear he'd heard from men in live combat situations, the sort of fear that made smart and highly trained people do dumb, ill-concieved things. Magnum was a lot of things, and he was self aware enough to admit that not all of those things were altruistic, but he wasn't the sort of person who could hear a voice that thick with fear and go back to sleep. No matter how seriously he may consider it. Besides, there was something familiar about the voice. He couldn't place it; his head was sort of spinning and making it hard to think. But that same confuddled mind was telling him it really didn't like the idea of this person being scared. At all. So if his eyes could just quit messing around and open, that would be great.

It was so dark, he didn't realize at first that his eyes had listened. He blinked, but it didn't help. He thought maybe rubbing at his eyes might somehow magically make some sort of light appear but, when he tried to move his arms, he found one was being pinned down by something. He frowned, which just made his headache even worse, and flexed his fingers to try to figure out what it was that had his hand trapped. It was warm and soft, and the moment he realized it was someone else's hand holding his, it let go.

"Sorry." There it was again, that voice with that undercurrent of fear, and this time his brain lit up. 

"Higgins?" Wow, talking sucked. Magnum's throat was so dry it felt as though he'd swallowed sandpaper, and the words seemed to scratch at his vocal chords on their way to his mouth. His stomach rolled slightly as his head was lifted, and he had just enough time to decide he’d really rather stay still when the movement stopped again and he relaxed back against something comfortably soft.

“Here.” Her voice was quiet, and she was doing a much better job of smothering the fear now. Something cool brushed against his lips, and he flinched away before realizing it was water. One small mouthful was all there was, and he nearly whined, desperate for more.

Higgins seemed to know how he was feeling, and he heard a swish this time before more water was trickling into his mouth. It wasn't until the fourth or fifth mouthful that he noticed he wasn't drinking from a bottle and tipped his head to the side slightly.

"Are you hand-feeding me water?" His throat was still far too dry but the words were clear. He felt her tense and oh! he was leaning against her. He felt like an idiot for not noticing she was holding him up sooner but assured himself he was just focused on the water. Self preservation and all that. He nearly missed her answer.

"Unfortunately I didn't think to bring a glass with me when we left the estate this morning. It was very remiss of me, I know." Her arched tone was perfectly calculated to tell him: a, that was a stupid question; b, she wasn't as annoyed as her accent was making her sound; and, c, she'd appreciate it if he would just keep his dumb inquiries to himself for a while. He wanted to laugh but wasn't sure his body would be too happy with him if he did, so he settled for a grin she couldn't see. He groped in the darkness, reaching out for where he thought her free hand would be, squeezing lightly when he found it. She returned the pressure and kept it up even as she scooped up another handful of water.

It took a while, swallowing one mouthful at a time, waiting each time for Higgins to give him more, before he started to feel better.

“Thank you.” He was pleased to note his voice sounded stronger, and his head was feeling less like it was full of concrete and more like it was full of brain. ‘Well,’ he amended in the privacy of his own thoughts, ‘maybe not exactly full.’ Magnum was pretty sure Higgins would never let him live it down if he confessed the thought out loud. But he was also pretty sure a person with brains would know where they were and what was going on. So he swallowed his pride, which felt about as bruised as the rest of him, and asked, “What happened, Higgy? Where are we?”

“In a well.” It was a deadpan sort of response, and, for a brief second, he actually thought she was joking. But there was no laughter, no sense of a smirk in her voice, and it would go quite some way to explaining the darkness and the ready access to water.

“Weren’t we looking for stolen tools?” He was sure they had been. At least, he thought he was sure. He was certain he remembered meeting with the client. The frazzled young man had explained the construction company he owned had been hit by a string of equipment thefts, and Magnum had actually suggested it would be better to involve the police and claim on the company's insurance to replace the items. Ah, maybe that was it. Maybe the insurance company had hired them to try to find either the equipment or proof of a scam.

“Was it tools?” he was forced to ask. ‘Stupid head injuries,’ he groused to himself, ‘making it so hard to remember things clearly.’

“Yes, the foreman's toolbox.” Higgins was doing a good job of sounding casual, but Magnum could hear the concern in her voice nonetheless. 

“I remember.” And he did. The client had nearly been in tears as he’d told them the police were dealing with the stolen equipment but that the latest theft had seen his foreman’s toolbox go missing and the man was threatening to quit over the loss. The police had updated the original report to include loss of personal property but then promptly informed him it was a low-priority case and he shouldn’t get his hopes up. And then the officer had handed him a business card for ‘Magnum and Higgins Private Investigations.’

“We were looking into former employees, right?”

“Right. And it led us to what used to be a farm, complete with ruined barn, overrun vegetable garden, and dry well. Well, mostly dry.” Her tone was disapproving, as if she blamed the well for their current predicament. That hardly seemed fair to him, but he wasn’t sure that was an argument he wanted to start just yet.

“There was a tunnel.” Everything had suddenly come rushing back with an abruptness that left him with the dizzying feeling he had never really forgotten in the first place. “In the cellar, hidden in the flagstones. And we thought it might be important.”

“And instead it led us here.” Magnum felt the breath enter and leave her body as she sighed heavily through her nose and, for the first time, was struck by the intimacy of their position. He kept talking, more to distract himself from that thought than from any real desire to keep the conversation going.

“So how did I end up with a head injury?”

She sighed again and her arms shifted, pulling him slightly closer. He wondered if she realized she had done it. “The end of the tunnel crumbled under your feet and you fell, pitched over head first. I tried to grab you but…” He heard her swallow hard. “I suppose the entire thing must have been unstable because, as I was reaching around to see if there was a ladder, the roof started to cave in.” She was trying to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but he felt his heart clench at her words anyway.

She could have been trapped, pinned beneath who knows how many feet of dirt and rock, and he would have been unconscious and unable to rescue her. A frisson of panic ran through him at the thought, but he pushed it away; now wasn’t the time to be worrying over what ifs and maybes. And it certainly wasn’t the time to be trying to figure out exactly what emotion it was behind that panic.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

“Yes, I came down feet first.” She was smiling, he could hear it, and he smiled in response. “I did lose my mobile up there though.” That explained why she wasn’t using the flashlight function, he’d been wondering. “And you left yours in the car.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We could use some light right about now.” 

“It’s actually a good thing. I’m hoping, once someone realises we’re missing, they’ll track your phone and find us. The signal should be more than strong enough on the surface. If it were down here, I doubt you’d be getting even a single bar.”

He couldn’t argue with the logic. Probably wouldn’t have even if he could. He was feeling lightheaded again and coughed over the deep breath he tried to take. She shushed him gently, and her one arm left his chest. A moment later, her hand was back by his mouth, and he gratefully took the water she was offering.

“So, now we wait?”

He felt her shift slightly as she answered. “Yes, now we wait.”

They sat in silence for a while. Higgins was stroking the back of one of Magnum’s hands, a light caress that was doing more to soothe him than he thought possible from such a gentle touch. He wanted to ask if she was doing it on purpose, if she knew how grounded it would make him feel, but that led to him wondering if she had ever done it before. Maybe she and Richard had been trapped in a similar situation. Magnum found he was feeling irrationally jealous of a dead man and cleared his throat, suddenly seized with a need to hear Higgins’ voice.

“This sucks.” Well, that wasn’t the profound conversation started he’d been hoping to come out with. His world shook a little as Higgins laughed. 

“It does indeed.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to die at the bottom of a well like some secondary character in a Lassie film.”

“You are not going to die at the bottom of a well.” Her voice was so certain, so full of determination, that he felt his usual level of admiration for her ratcheted up several notches.

“Will you go to dinner with me if I survive?” Oops. That wasn’t meant to have come out. Damn concussions and their ability to decimate his brain to mouth filter. The silence was deafening, and he wondered what sort of look Higgins was sporting. Oh well; might as well go all in. “I mean, it would give me something to fight for, you know. The thought that when we get out of here I’ll get to see in a tight dress. With some strappy high heels. Oh, and your hair pinned up that way you do it, with the curls.”

“Keep talking like that, and you actually will die at the bottom of a well.” It sounded like she disapproved of him asking her out even more than she disapproved of wells. 

“Oh c’mon, Higgy. You’re not going to kill me. Rick and T.C. would never forgive you.”

“What makes you think it’ll look like murder?” There was something in her voice that told him he wasn’t in any real danger of death by ex-covert operative. It could have been wishful thinking, but he was fairly certain he just needed to push a little more.

“You’ve honestly never thought about it? About us having a more than professional relationship?”

“Anyone would think you want to die in a well!” And there it was, a hint of laughter in her voice and, beneath it, something else, something he had been hearing more and more often lately. The same tone that had been making him think of asking her on a real date for weeks now. He smiled as he realized he knew exactly what to say to convince her this wasn’t a joke. Or delirium.

“We’ve gone out before...” he started, only for her to interrupt.

“For me to hack a computer system, yes. Oh, and there was that wonderful time we pretended to be married and you terrorized the manager of the Maika'i Hotel and Spa until he broke down and comped you a suite. During which time I was, again, hacking their system.”

“Right, but I don’t mean going out for a case. No hacking, no lying to employees, no getting caught up in anything except each other.” The silence that met his statement wasn’t as heavy. In fact, it felt almost comfortable.

“Okay.” Her voice was quiet, but he heard her perfectly. “You’re not going to die here because, when we get out, you’re taking me to dinner.” 

***

The rescue, when it came, was rather anticlimactic. They had left the trapdoor in the cellar open so their rescuers went as far as they could along the tunnel, found the cave in, deduced from the amount of dust still in the air that it was recent, and went back to the surface to try to work out where it led. That took them to the well where one sharp blow with the butt of the gun that Rick just happened to have on him and that he absolutely did have a license for broke the rusted padlock holding the safety cover in place. T.C. shoved the old wooden planks to one side, and they both yelled down.

“We’re here!”

Magnum left the shouting to Higgins; he had spent the last hour or so desperately trying not to fall asleep. It’s not that he believed the tired old wives’ tale about how you’d never wake up again if you fell asleep with a concussion. It was just that he knew he had a concussion, and he was afraid he would never wake up again if he fell asleep. His head had started to feel like it might actually explode, and he was pretty sure the only reason he wasn’t dead was because Higgins had told him in no uncertain terms she would kill him if he died on her.

More words were shouted and ropes were procured, he thought, from the back of T.C.’s van. Everything was getting a little too much for him if he was being totally honest, and he was happy just to lean back against Higgins and close his eyes and let everyone else handle everything. He thought he heard her calling something. It sounded important, and he tried to open his eyes, he really did, but it was so much effort, and he really didn’t have that much energy. She shook him, her hand tight on his shoulder, and he really didn’t appreciate that. He wasn’t a lazy person, but he enjoyed his sleep as much as the next man. Couldn’t she at least wait until the sun was up? It was still dark, which meant it was still time for all good little P.I.s to be in bed.

“Don’ worry.” And why were his words slurring like that? Had they been drinking? “Hav’n forgot. Dinner.” 

There was movement behind him, and a voice echoed in his head. He knew that voice. Was that Rick? Must have been having a party then. If Rick and Higgy were both there, then T.C. must be nearby, too; they wouldn’t be having a party without him. And that meant whatever was going on could easily be dealt with without his input. So Magnum let himself fall asleep. 

It was almost a shame. If he’d held out a little longer, he would have heard Higgins assure Rick she was perfectly capable of climbing the rope because “I absolutely did not spend some time with the 23rd SAS, and, if you tell anyone I told you otherwise, I will not only deny it but will personally see to it that your body is never found.” He would also have gotten to witness Higgins indulge in the least ladylike language he had ever heard, no doubt learned from the same men she definitely never worked with, while she executed a halting but rather spectacular brake and squat rope climb.

*** 

Magnum was bored. He had woken up just a few hours after being admitted to the hospital and was instantly told he wasn’t allowed to even sit up, let alone try to get out of bed. He knew Higgins was somewhere in the hospital, too, but wasn’t sure which ward she was in. T.C. had only had enough time to tell him they were keeping her overnight, something about a nasty cut on her arm, before he was being shooed out by a nurse moaning about visiting hours. 

He’d been awake most of the night, drifting off occasionally only to jerk awake at the slightest sound. He’d never been a fan of hospitals, even before the Korengal. The weeks that had been spent in various medical centers after those eighteen months had served to cement his opinion that hospitals were to be avoided. Too many people and noises and smells he didn’t recognize and couldn’t make his subconscious ignore.

So now he was alone, staring at a wall because the early morning sun outside the window hurt his eyes, and wondering if he could blame the whole ‘let me take you on a date’ conversation on his concussion. Which made him wonder if he actually wanted shrug it off as a joke. After all, hadn’t Higgy agreed to the date? But had she agreed because she actually wanted to go? Or did she think he wouldn’t remember asking her? Maybe he should leave it to her to bring it up? Maybe he should just lie and say he didn’t remember anything past first waking up? Or perhaps it would be better to just come right out and tell her he wasn’t planning on holding her to it as soon as he saw her?

Magnum wasn’t given to second-guessing himself like this, and he didn’t like the feeling one bit. The trouble was being stuck in bed, flat on his back, with nothing else to focus on. What he wouldn’t give for some sort of distraction. There was a TV on the wall but no remote he could see, and the glare from the screen would probably make his headache come back anyway. That same vague pressure in his head meant he wouldn’t be able to read a book even if he had one. What he needed was a visitor.

Just as he thought that, he heard the door to his room open slowly and turned his head to see Higgins standing in the doorway.

“Finally.” She walked in like she owned the place, and he found himself smiling at the sight of her. “I was starting to think you must have been sent to a different hospital during the night.” She crossed the room to stand by his bed so he could see her without straining his neck, and he tried to assess her physical state just by staring.

She was paler than normal, purple smudges beneath her eyes speaking of a long and sleepless night. He waved a hand and was inordinately pleased when she caught it in her own. He figured that pleased feeling pretty much answered his question about whether he really did want to go on a date with her or not. What it didn’t do was tell him how best to broach the subject. 

“T.C. told me they were keeping you in, too. I was worried.” He eyed the bandage covering more than half of her lower left arm.

“It’s just a cut. They were worried about an infection setting in, so they gave me an antibiotic IV. And then they were worried about reactions to the antibiotics so, lucky me, I got to stay here all night instead of going home and actually sleeping.”

He couldn’t help but huff a laugh, and she gave a small smile in response.

“Look, Magnum…” He watched as she bit her lip, clearly struggling to find the words for what she wanted to say. His stomach sank. She was going to tell him she had just been humoring him, that she had no intention of going out for dinner with him.

Part of him wanted to tell her he had been rambling and let her off the hook, but he had accepted the fact that he really, really wanted to take her out on a real date, and he knew she would pick up on the lie. So he kept quiet and let her think.

“You were obviously quite, well, out of it,” she managed finally. “I don’t know if you remember everything you said but…” She trailed off again. “You asked me out. And I said yes. And I just wanted to let you know that it’s okay. I know you weren’t really…” Another pause. She looked away from him, but Magnum had seen something in her eyes that made his heart jump in his chest. Disappointment. She was giving him an out. And she didn’t want to.

“I remember asking you out.” She looked back at him, and he squeezed the hand still holding his. “And I meant it. I want to take you out for dinner. You don’t even have to wear a tight dress or curl your hair.”

She laughed, and he watched as a bright smile spread across her lips. “Okay. Once we’re both feeling up to it, we’ll go out. On a date.”

Magnum got the distinct impression he was about to be kissed and had just started to strain his head upward when the door opened again. This time, a nurse walked in and wasted no time in telling Higgins she needed to leave.

“Mr. Magnum needs rest!” she scolded. “I’m going to have to insist that you return to your room immediately.” 

Magnum hid his laugh at the look Higgins threw him as she left, managing to turn his smirk into a smile as the nurse glared at him. The entire time she was checking his pupils and blood pressure, he kept himself distracted by planning his upcoming date.

***

He’d seen her dressed to kill before. But this was different, knowing all that effort was on his behalf. Despite what he’d said at the hospital, the red dress was tight, skimming her curves, and it had shifted as she walked. He’d known he was gawking, but he hadn't been able to remember how to close his mouth. Every step she’d taken toward him had made his brain whimper a little louder until, as she’d drawn level with him and flashed him a small, shy smile he had never seen before, his mind had been screaming at him. 'If you let her go, I'll leave too. No more rational thought for you buddy.’

He’d been surprised by how comfortable it felt, sitting in a fancy restaurant with his last-minute reservations courtesy of Rick and his contacts. There was no need for the normal getting-to-know you talk of a regular first date, and so they skipped over topics instead, laughing and chatting like normal. Well, almost like normal. There had been a definite undercurrent running beneath the light conversation he’d tried his hardest not to dwell on.

And now they were nearly back at the estate, and, for some reason he couldn’t quite track, they’d spent the last ten minutes arguing over the correct term for a female bartender. As he pulled the Ferrari into the driveway, he was trying to defend his position that ‘barkeep’ was perfectly acceptable. As he walked around to open the passenger door for her, Higgins was insisting the ‘barkeep’ was the owner of the bar and not the bartender.

“What if the owner is also the employee?”

"Oh for goodness sake!" Higgins cried, but she was laughing as she did. "Are we going to stand here for the rest of the night arguing semantics, or are you going to offer to walk me to my door?"

He looked at her in exasperated confusion but still held out his arm. "Please," he said with an absurd half-bow, "allow me to escort you the six steps to your front door." He smiled a little as she laughed helplessly and took his arm. He loved the sound of her laughter, even if it was directed at his jobs or finances more often than not.

She turned to face him as they reached the door, and he reluctantly let her arm slip out of his.

"Six steps. Why did I just do that?" Magnum questioned. He saw the look she gave him and knew she was looking for a sign he was annoyed. He kept his face relaxed and showed nothing but genuine curiosity.

"Because this is the part of the evening where I invite you in for a coffee that neither of us will drink, and I didn't fancy screaming it down the driveway at you." She tipped her head as she spoke and kept her eyes fixed on his.

He realized she was making sure he saw the invitation for what it was and blinked at her words, licking his lips almost reflexively. "You don't need to do that." His voice was quiet; he couldn’t hide his concern, and she hurried he reassure him.

"Let's be honest." She smiled as she spoke and laid her hand on his arm. "Despite what you seem to think about your powers of persuasion, I never 'had' to do anything. Research, surveillance, fist fights, gun fights, kidnappings..." She reeled the events off as easily as if she were listing book titles. "I've done it all because I wanted to."

"But are you sure you want to do this?"

"If I say no, if I say I'm not sure, you'd leave." It wasn't a question.

"Of course." It was the truth. Walking away now would be hard, sure, but he wouldn’t dream of pushing her into doing something she wasn’t ready for. There was no hint of hesitation on his face, nothing in his voice to suggest he was simply humoring her, and he saw her smile shift from playful to something more serious.

"The fact that you can say that is just one of the many reasons my answer is yes. So, Thomas, I'll ask again." She moved closer to him, stretching up a little so her lips were close to his ear, and let her voice drop, the words taking on an unmistakably seductive tone. "Would you like to come in for coffee?"

A shudder ran through him that had nothing to do with the night air. She stepped back, turned, and walked through the door. Magnum half-expected her to throw a coquettish look over her shoulder and was glad when she didn’t; she had made her point perfectly well already. In less time than it took for his heart to beat, Magnum was following her in and pushing the door closed behind him.

***

On any normal day, when Magnum first woke up, he would stretch and take a deep breath, smelling the ocean and feeling the warmth of the sun. He would normally get out of bed and head to the window to look out over the grass and beach and take a moment to thank his lucky stars for everything he had been given in his life. Before today, if you’d pressed him, he would tell you the sight of the waves crashing up against the golden sand was one of his favorite things to look at.

Today he didn’t stretch, he didn’t roll out of bed and head to the window, and, even though he would have had a better view from this room than he did from his own bedroom, the idea of looking at the ocean didn’t hold the same appeal. Instead, he stayed still so as not to disturb the woman still fast asleep next to him. Stretching would have felt nice, sure, but not as nice as having Juliet curled up against him, one hand resting on his chest. As for looking at the ocean, it was pretty enough, but he’d rather spend a minute watching Juliet sleep than spend an hour watching the waves. He did take a moment to thank his lucky stars though.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I can't stop writing for this show. I am procrastinating on Magnum fics by writing other Magnum fics! I think I have a problem.


End file.
